Taste of Loneliness
by Tribble Master
Summary: Famine's hand left a bitter taste in Castiel's mouth. Post My Bloody Valentine. Warnings: Hardcore Vore, lots of squicky!


**A/N: Discovered something called Vore. Immediate thought was: Challenge Accepted. So this isn't my usual thing but I felt like writing it. I apologize in advance for the squicky-ness. **

**Taste of Loneliness**

Famine's hand had left a bitter taste in Castiel's mouth. A craving for meat mixed with a loneliness inside that was eating him alive. Every time he walked among humans he felt his skin crawl. He was there, among them, wearing their skin but at the same time it felt like at any moment he would disappear. Fade back into the stars that had borne him.

Dean stayed with him though. His green eyes were so lost. Castiel wondered if his eyes looked just as tired. Dean's skin was frayed like a tapestry too worn from the story it weaved. Castiel craved to know just how it felt- if it was rough or smooth.

Castiel had faith in few things. The only thing he could count on recently was Dean's friendship. He treasured it, counted on it to sustain him. Lately though, he wondered if Dean would leave him. The apocalypse was so close to a close, almost palpable and suffocating. Castiel's siblings had already left him. He couldn't bear to have it happen again.

He sat and watched as his thoughts circled and circled like dust motes in front of him. Dean was sleeping just inches away in his bed. His troubled sleep was unaware of his visitor that sat in the motel chair. Castiel stood up, and moved closer to the bed.

Castiel's brows furrowed. "This is for the best." He didn't know if he was saying that to reassure himself or comfort dean.

He reached out a hand and grabbed Dean's forearm. He snapped the bone with gentle squeeze. Dean's eyes opened wide in horror as he looked up. "Cas? What?"

Castiel touched one finger to Dean's brow. "This won't hurt. We'll be safe."

Dean's eyes glazed over, and every muscle in his body relaxed. He watched paralyzed as Castiel raised his arm up and began to eat his fingers. Warm blood was trickling down on to him; the smell of copper was all too familiar.

In Hell Dean remembered this all too common place. Dean had peeled back the skin of souls and savored their flesh, both to torture the gluttons and to satisfy his hunger. He'd been so empty after he'd crawled out of the pit, he'd forgotten what this was- To eat and be eaten. There was only one way to truly know someone and that was through physical connection. No one can lie to you in their most intimate moments; their body language betrays them.

Dean watched Castiel savor the last of his hand. Castiel's blue eyes rolled back in satisfaction. Alistair had done the same when he had eaten Dean's tongue. Dean longed to move his limbs, to show Castiel how much he was enjoying this as well.

Castiel was moving on to his arm now, tearing off the muscle with his teeth, and then licking the sweet marrow from Dean's bones. Castiel felt the hunger inside him soften with every bite he took. He could feel the connection he had to humanity strengthen as he took Dean's essence inside himself. A shiver of pleasure cascaded down his spine. Dean would be inside him. Dean would never, could never, leave him. He knew Dean would understand.

He was right about Dean's skin. It was rough and bumpy, covered with scars. But the sweat of Dean's skin added a bittersweet taste. Like redemption and sin dripping in whiskey. There was no comparing it to anything Castiel, or his vessel for that matter, had eaten before.

The Horsemen were supposed to be omens of chaos, and destruction. If it hadn't been for Famine though, Castiel would never have thought to consume Dean. He pondered the thought as he munched on Dean's ribs. Half his torso was gone, and Castiel could see his heart now. Famine had done him a great service. Castiel had been so lost, he felt like now he could finally think clearly. He would have his friend inside him, and he would draw his strength from within.

Castiel reached out and cupped Dean's face in his hand. "I'm doing this because this for the greater good." He said softly. When pulled his hand a way there was smear of blood on Dean's stubble.

Dean felt his heart beat start to race. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Castiel's touch was electric. Each pump of his heart made the blood drenching the sheets turn a darker shade. No amount of whiskey, no amount of women he had in is bed, made him feel as alive as he did here. Being pulled apart was something he could handle. Maybe it was just being so close to death that gave him pleasure. He just knew it was something he sought out. And here, it had finally come to him.

Dean's eyes traced each fine movement of Castiel's hands. Castiel was pulling apart his abdomen, working methodically. There was such a deep sense of concern in Castiel's touch, Dean felt honored. He noticed how very weary Castiel's arms were. Castiel's white button up shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing the multitude of bruises and scars he had acquired on earth. His hands were calloused, and there was dirt under his nails. Dean felt a pang of sadness for his friend. They were both working too hard for a cause they couldn't fully understand. But they would be together soon. He would be Castiel's source of strengthen from within.

As Castiel finished the last of Dean Winchester, he smiled. Deep within his swollen belly he could feel Dean smile. Inside him a small voice was whispering contentedly. He could his voice vibrating in his bones.

Castiel rubbed one hand over his bulging stomach. "We'll never be lonely again. You'll always have me."

There was blood smeared across his chest, and gore stuck between his teeth. He was a mess- like someone had torn him apart and hastily thrown him back together. But Castiel, for once, never felt more whole. His taunt skin finally seemed to fit. He had tasted loneliness, but now he knew the taste of love, and trust. And for once the taste on his tongue was much more satisfying.

**The end **


End file.
